


Shimmer in the Darkness

by tryslora



Series: Mating Games Round 2 [14]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Anonymous Sex, Clubbing, Community: mating_games, M/M, Semi-Public Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-10
Updated: 2014-06-10
Packaged: 2018-02-04 02:32:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 746
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1763013
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tryslora/pseuds/tryslora
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles can have an orgasm any day; tonight is about finding <i>release</i>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Shimmer in the Darkness

**Author's Note:**

> This was my entry for challenge 4 of mating games, light and/or dark. I wanted to play with both ideas, both physically and emotionally. I had a lot of fun with this piece, and hope the anonymity appeals to all. :) As always, I do not own the world or characters of Teen Wolf, I just like to play with them.

Stiles prepares before he goes to Jungle, fucking himself open with his biggest dildo and plenty of lube. He doesn’t get off; that’s not the point of the pre-show after all. He just wants to make sure he’s ready for the grand finale. He can have an orgasm any day; tonight is about finding _release_.

He strips his shirt off as soon as he’s in the door, tossing it somewhere he might find it later. His skin is already carefully dotted with glitter and small rhinestones glued to his skin that reflect the light from the mirror ball shining over the dance floor. In the darkness of the club, the only light will shimmer from that source, reflecting off of anything shiny. Stiles intends to shine and hide at the same time; it’s perfect.

He slips into a small space on the dance floor, neatly slotted between two men already dancing. They let him in, hands gliding down his sides to his hips, holding him in place while they grind. Stiles can feel how fucking _wet_ he is inside of his jeans, sticky and sloppy, and he pushes back against the hard dick behind him. Teeth nip at his shoulder, and he groans.

He wants to make the night last, but he’s not sure he _can_.

He just wants to let it all go, free his mind.

It’s so hard to _let go_ sometimes.

He leans in, kissing the man in front of him, not caring who it is. Scruff burns his chin and he groans, tilting his head back, letting him nip at his throat. He aches, hard in his jeans, trapped and uncomfortable as hips push against him.

Not yet, not yet.

Stiles twists to one side, moving from one man to another, grinding, dancing, enjoying the sensation without giving himself up. Hands stroke over his body, fingertips skimming sensitive nipples, palms pressing hard against his erection. He rides the fine edge of almost-orgasm until his skin burns with the need to lose control.

There are pockets of pure darkness around the edges of the club, places where men stand, cocks out, waiting for a willing mouth or hand. Stiles moves with purpose, slipping into shadows and closing his eyes against what little sparkling light filters in. He doesn’t want to see, he doesn’t want to be seen—he just wants to feel.

Heat from a body draws him in and Stiles goes willingly, turning his back to grind his bottom against this stranger, feeling the hardness push against his jeans. “Fuck me,” Stiles whispers. He holds out a condom, relaxing as he hears the foil packet tear.

He takes the time to shimmy his jeans down, exposing his bare ass, knowing that keeping his jeans around his thighs traps his legs, makes him a tighter fit. He wants to _feel_ this, pulled back against the cock that nudges at him, pushes inside. He bends forward, anonymous hands gripping his hips to keep him from falling before he’s turned to face the wall and lean against it, head turned and pillowed on his bent arm, eyes still closed.

Hips snap, pushing the thick cock into him over and over and it feels so damned good, blotting out everything else. Stiles fists his own cock, tugging at it hard. “Oh _fuck_ , that’s good,” he mutters. “Just keep doing that, fill me up you fucker. Fuck me until I can’t feel anything anymore. Your cock is so fucking big, I’m so fucking tight, just don’t stop, fuck me into the wall dude.”

And he _does_. The stranger _does_ , pushing harder and faster until Stiles rocks into the wall, knowing there’s going to be a bruise on his chin and another shaped like fingers on his shoulder where he’s held tight. Teeth nip at his shoulder, sucking a mark into being and Stiles comes at the feeling, spurting against the wall while teeth hold him in place.

“Fuck, _Stiles_.”

Stiles goes absolutely still, heart stuttering. It’s not exactly a _common_ name. Does this dude know him? Is he fantasizing about him?

The guy pulls out and by the time Stiles manages to turn, one hand out, eyes blinking open into the darkness… there is nothing for his questing hand to touch.

No one is there.

He tucks himself away, ass aching and cock still wet. It was good. Fucking awesome, really.

He got exactly what he came for.

It’s just that now he wishes he got _more_.

**Author's Note:**

> Come find me [on tumblr](http://tryslora.tumblr.com).


End file.
